


Blackout Curtains

by Frumpologist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hangover, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 17:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15563265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frumpologist/pseuds/Frumpologist
Summary: A glimpse into a morning with Albus and Scorpius.





	Blackout Curtains

**Author's Note:**

> This drabble was written for Fairest of the Rare’s Ship Me Saturday prompt event on 4 August 2018. The prompt was: Do these sunglasses say ‘I’m a movie star’ or ‘I’m hiding my dark circles because I’m perpetually tired’?

For the seventh morning in a row, despite multiple warnings that he’d permanently remove the fucking thing from the solar system, the sun filtered through his tired and, possibly, hungover eyes. He didn’t always blast its existence, oh no. His hatred of the damned thing was owed entirely to the beautiful blonde snoring at his side. And, regardless of the slender arm draped across his bare waist, Al failed to see the sweetness of the moment and, instead, in a moment of pure cheek, gripped the wrist of said arm and flung it over the offending body’s own bare waist. 

“Fuck’s sake, Al,” the sleepy voice hissed, and then groaned. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Blackout curtains.” Al mumbled as he pushed himself away from the reach of the tired blonde and out of the comfort of a warm, soft bed. “We’ve gone over this for months. If you’re going to get me drunk and shag me rotten, the very least you can do is get sodding blackout curtains.”

“You’re a wizard. Use your wand.” Even though Al wasn’t looking at him, he could still feel the dramatic eye roll that Scorpius was sure to do behind his back. 

Al smirked. “Where was all this filthy talk last night, love?”

Scorpius groaned and rolled out of bed. As Al pulled on a pair of jeans, he watched his boyfriend move across the room to grab an old quidditch jersey and trousers. He never passed up the opportunity to watch Scorpius' lithe body in the nude, bending and contorting to cover the bits of him that Al liked best. Al walked up behind Scorpius as he snapped the band of his pajama bottoms around his small waist and wrapped his arms him. Al nuzzled his nose against the flesh of his neck, just below his ear, and sighed. 

“I don’t fancy sitting with my mum, clearly hungover and looking like death, while you get to be the sensible boyfriend and look like you just modeled for the cover of Quidditch Illustrated.” 

He felt Scorpius’ chest rumble with a chuckle as the blonde shook his head. “Hardly. Your father thinks I defile you at every given opportunity.”

“He’s not far off, mind you,” Al smirked against the fleshy spot just south of his ear. Whispering softly, Al said, “I like it when you wear my name on your body.”

“Oh, this?” Scorpius turned in Al’s arms and gave him a crooked smile. “Technically, I’m wearing Jamie’s name on my body.”

Al growled and pulled the blonde in for a searing kiss, reminding him exactly which Potter it was that made him shake through an orgasm the night before. Twice. 

“We’re going to be late if you keep snogging me like that,” Scorpius said through heavy breaths as he pulled away. “And then I’ll get a lecture from your father. Again.”

“Stop fussing.” Al said, relenting his hold on the blonde. “They love you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Scorpius tousled his hair while Al found an old band tee shirt to toss on. “Will you remind them of that when they see the purple welt on your neck? Or were you planning to use a concealment charm to spare me the embarrassment?”

Al shook his head. Hell no. He’d wear it proudly. Scorpius closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. This was how Al loved him the most; entirely exasperated and completely unguarded.

“Might as well fly into the dragon’s den, then,” Scorpius said finally as Al reached into the bedside table and pulled out his round, dark sunglasses and placed them on the bridge of his nose.

“Do these sunglasses say ‘I’m a movie star’ or ‘I’m hiding my dark circles because I’m perpetually tired’?” Al grinned as he grasped his boyfriend’s hand and tangled their fingers together. “Or, maybe ‘my sexy lover refused to buy blackout curtains and so after becoming irresponsibly intoxicated and shagging like animals, the sun makes me want to die’?”

As Scorpius grimaced, Al turned on the spot and apparated them away to breakfast with the Potters. 


End file.
